


confidence booster

by thenerdlordparade



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert, also maze is in here but it's like one line so im not gonna clog up her tag, gender neutral reader, open-ended, reader really needs to get better friends tho smh, very little connection to canon tbh. could be pre-series. could be early season 1, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:33:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27396526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenerdlordparade/pseuds/thenerdlordparade
Summary: clubbing is so not your thing.your friends drag you out to lux anyway.
Relationships: Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 63





	confidence booster

**Author's Note:**

> this thing has been sitting in my pile of unfinished writes since march 2016. the reason it hasn't been posted until now is mostly due to my own whack-ass brain- i had/have more planned for this, and wanted to write more of it before i posted any of it, but it's honestly just fine as a stand-alone.
> 
> plus this way you get to imagine what happens next :)

_Why_ your friends were trying to convince you to come with them to Lux was, quite frankly, beyond you. They were your friends, they should have known that clubbing just _wasn't_ your scene!

Loud music? No thanks.

Strobing lights? Bound to give you a headache.

And the stuff you'd heard about dancing women not just on stage but around poles, in _cages_ \- overwhelming, all of it, you rested your case, done deal.

And _yet_.

Despite your reservations, they still managed to convince you to tag along with them. For the most part, you only agreed to it because you were worried about them getting home safely- given the lurid descriptions of the club that had been published ever since it opened, you knew they would all get smashed and be in no fit state to drive. No driving meant calling a cab, and you barely trusted the Los Angeles cabbies to do their job in the daylight, much less late at night.

Your friends went to all of that effort to get you to Lux, but the minute the bouncer let your group in, they scattered. Several went to the bar to order their first drinks or flirt men into buying them, while the rest gravitated to the dance floor- which left you on your own to figure out what the hell to do, because you _definitely_ couldn't stand just inside the doorway all night.

After ordering a soda, you managed to wend your way through the crowds to an unoccupied table overlooking a piano. A handful of other empty tables surrounded it- looked like people were more interested in mingling and dancing on the main floor than sitting down.

You idly wondered if anyone ever played the piano and just what they would play, swirling your drink in gentle, absent motions that set the ice to clinking softly against the sides. For a club like Lux, classical was certainly _not_ going to be in the potential pianist's repertoire. Perhaps something bluesy, or a love song accompanied by a singer. Maybe the pianist themselves would sing? No, no, it would be more likely for there to be an accompanying singer. Those who could play and sing at the same time were rare; it required practice and concentration to multitask like that.

A glass being set down in front of you broke your train of thought. Startled, you looked up to see the bartender, a tray dangling from one of her hands. "I didn't order this," you told her, confused.

The bartender smiled, sharp and dangerous and all teeth, but her words were disturbingly polite. "Courtesy of the owner," she said, and walked away before you could protest. You picked up the glass, took a cautious sniff, and immediately set it back down, nose wrinkling at the strong scent of alcohol. Definitely not something you could indulge in when you were the designated driver for the night. You returned your attention to the piano and let your mind wander back to its previous trail, sipping at your soda as an afterthought.

Before you could even drink half of it, a man slid into the seat across from you, interrupting your woolgathering. "What's a pretty little thing like you doing sitting all alone like this? And," he said, affecting a wounded expression, hand on his chest, "you haven't even _touched_ the drink I got for you."

You eyed him warily over your glass, looking him up and down. The man was _Attractive_ with a capital A, you could say that much: a handsome jaw lined with perfectly groomed scruff, immaculately styled hair, and a tailored suit that cut all the right lines, with the top of the button-up shirt spread open _just_ enough to let a bit of his collarbone peek out.

He was attractive, yes, _but_ you had neither asked him to order you a drink or invited him to your table. "You're the owner, then?"

"Lucifer Morningstar," he said, giving you a winning smile, "at your service."

" _Lucifer?_ " you repeated, raising an eyebrow incredulously. "You can't really think I'm going to believe that's your real name."

"It is, actually, you can thank my father for that," he replied. "You still haven't answered my question though, either of them. You can't just let a good drink like that go to waste!" He gestured to the untouched glass, condensation having formed on the sides.

"I can when I'm the designated driver for the night," you told him, frowning slightly over your soda. For a split second, you'd almost wanted to take the alcoholic drink and throw it back in one huge shot before your better judgment returned to you.

The man - Lucifer, apparently - chuckled a little. "Love, that's what cabs are for."

You set your drink down on the table, folding your arms. Clearly this guy was not going to leave you alone- not that you _minded_ , since he was easy on the eyes, but the point still stood. "I'm not about to trust some skeevy LA cabbie to get my friends and I home safe, _Lucifer_." You looked him over again. "You should know what sort of sick things can happen to drunk people late at night."

"And so you are _nobly_ denying yourself any fun?"

"It's not like that," you protested. "I'm having fun." The words tasted like ash in your mouth; it was clear that Lucifer wasn't buying it either.

"You're moping over a soda, darling. That's certainly not anyone's idea of fun. Come now," he said, scooting closer with a winsome smile, "don't you _want_ some fun? What is it you most desire, _right_ at this moment?"

His dark eyes caught yours and they were mesmerizing.

Captivating.

You couldn't look away.

But then you blinked, and the spell was broken. "Lucifer Morningstar, are you tempting me?" you asked, a smile creeping unbidden to your face. 

"Perhaps. Do you _want_ to be tempted?" 

You didn't really have an answer for him. Instead, you settled for arching an eyebrow playfully over your glass as you took another sip. 

"Oh, you're _fun_." He smiled back at you with a soft, throaty chuckle that sent a pleasant tingle down your spine. "Most people give in right away when I do that."

"Do what?" 

He gestured vaguely. "Ask them what they desire. People like to tell me things, you see."

Your eyebrow remained firmly arched, unsure at first what to say in response. You're intrigued, if still a little cautious about how much he seemed to be playing up his namesake. "And they then go out and act on what they tell you with your help, I assume?" 

"Oh no, no, _hardly_." He waved it off dismissively. "That's all up to you. I just tend to bring it to the surface. What you humans decide to do afterwards has nothing to do with me."

"Mmhm." You glanced away from him, breaking eye contact. He was _really_ good looking, _damn_. It was just a little overwhelming having his full attention like that; you weren't exactly used to being flirted with by hot men.

( _Was_ this flirting? Was it just banter?? Was it _flirty_ banter??? Hell if you knew.)

Usually though, it was the other way around: you tried to flirt and ended up hopelessly awkward, the attractive men ( _hot_ was now solely, suddenly reserved for Lucifer) varying degrees of uncomfortable and, ultimately, uninterested. You'd lost count of the number of failed dates. A dark part of you - a part that was usually easily silenced, but still ever lurking - always wondered if your friends dragged you out to bars and clubs _because_ they looked forward to seeing you make a fool of yourself.

When you looked away though, your gaze drifted to the bar and caught on one of your friends. They had someone hanging attentively at their side, but they weren't focused on them. Instead, they were openly staring at you and Lucifer, dumbstruck. _Envious_. 

You could practically hear them chewing on their liver from across the crowded dance floor. 

Hiding a smile behind your near-empty glass, you turned back to Lucifer. "Now," he said, "you're _sure_ you don't want to tell me what you desire?" 

The pull was there, just like before, but it was gentler now. Whatever it was about him, that nudge to tell him, he was leaving it up to you. A petty little plan flashed through your mind; it was frankly a bit juvenile, but that dark, devilish - no pun intended - little part of you that always wondered if your friends were laughing at you reveled in this newfound power. "Actually, I _can_ think of something I desire."

"Oh?" One eyebrow lifted, intrigued. 

"I wouldn't mind talking to you a bit more, and," you added, flicking your eyes meaningfully back towards the bar, "maybe taking that conversation somewhere more private? See, one of my friends is over there by the bar..."

He was a master of subtlety; had you not just told him about said friend, you would never have known that he had looked. "Say no more," he said, a Cheshire grin stretching on his face to match yours. "A little jealousy is good for them, I've found."

"It's bad of me," you admitted, setting your glass down, "but it's kind of nice to be on this side of things for once. Usually I, um." You never _intended_ to spill the little creeping thoughts you had about your friends to _anyone_ , but, well, he _had_ said that people liked to tell him things. You could see why: there was an ease to him, in the way he listened attentively, that lent that ease to you. "Usually I end up striking out, or get stood up," you said ruefully, "and it's hard not to feel like they lord it over me sometimes." 

"Oh no, no, a little revenge is perfectly normal, you _should_ enjoy it!" His tone pulled a laugh from you and he smiled for it. "It's life's little pleasures that make it worth living, love."

You sighed, ducking your head, but still smiling. The little term of endearment at the end warmed you. It was a feeling you hadn't had for... quite some time. "No truer words, Lucifer."

There was a moment of relative silence; you lifted your head and finished off your soda in that time. The feeling of his hand covering yours when you set the empty glass down, however, made you look up at him, startled, eyes wide. "Might as well _really_ sell it," he said, smiling widely at you.

You couldn't argue with that- didn't really _want_ to argue. Shyly returning his smile, you let go of the glass and twisted your thumb up to stroke lightly along the side of his hand. He returned the gesture, his thumb sliding in between to rub gentle circles on your palm. It was, again, something you hadn't had for a long time, and you could feel yourself relaxing even as he took the drink he had ordered for you and downed it easily using his other hand. "Shall we?" you asked lightly. 

"We shall." In a surprising move, he didn't let go of your hand right away, instead lifting it to press a kiss to your knuckles. You giggled a little, unable to help yourself. After both of you stood, Lucifer gallantly offered you his arm. As you took it, you looked deliberately over to your friend by the bar. Their hanger-on had disappeared, probably unhappy at the lack of attention, and they stared back at you with undisguised jealousy. 

You grinned back at them and gave them a little wave. The last you saw of them, their expression had tightened deliciously, before you let yourself be led away by Lucifer to a set of well-hidden elevator doors. 

**Author's Note:**

> my favourite line from this has always been "you're moping over a soda, darling." the second i wrote it i could hear it in his voice and i knew it was perfect.
> 
> EDIT: i fixed the one spot that this wasn't gender-neutral. really, it was just my own hang-ups over lucifer calling you a "pretty little thing" that was stopping me. good thing i am Powerful :)


End file.
